


Say No to This & It's Quiet Uptown (An Obi-Wan Kenobi Fanfiction)

by asaucecoveredsomething



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaucecoveredsomething/pseuds/asaucecoveredsomething
Summary: This is the second installment in my Hamilton-inspired fic series!Clocking in at 7549 words, it’s a little bit longer than the last, but hey, I was more into this one.Triggers apply for the following: depression, alcohol, youngling murder, mildly sexual content, and suicidal thoughts (mildly).
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	Say No to This & It's Quiet Uptown (An Obi-Wan Kenobi Fanfiction)

**Author's Note:**

> Mira is a Jedi during the Clone Wars alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi. When her squad is wiped out during a battle with General Grievous, she is forced to cope with her own mortality. Who else can help her other than Obi-Wan himself? Follow Mira and Obi-Wan through their emotional struggles as they recover from the battle, Order 66, and grapple with how to continue on post-Order 66.

Depression was a hell of a beast, but it was an almost necessary part of being a Jedi veteran. Year after year, her friends and family perished around her, leaving her lonely and empty after the ten years she’d been active in the military. Her uniform was worn, her body bore permanent callouses from the points where her armor had worn against her skin, her every joint ached from the countless times she’d been slammed into walls, floors and ceilings against her will. She was tired. She was so tired of death surrounding her constantly. She longed for the day when humanity would prevail- if humanity would ever prevail over the ever-present threat of the Sith.

She took another drink from the glass bottle hidden away in her office before sitting it down atop a stack of condolence letters she was in the process of signing. The Jedi Order tended to use a template for these letters, finding it far simpler to fill in names and leave a signature than to rewrite the same message over and over again. She’d signed more letters than she cared to admit after the expedition. Her entire squad had been lost while she had somehow been spared. She was suffering from an extreme case of survivors guilt while filling in the countless names.

This one was particularly difficult, prompting another swig from the bottle. Gin. Straight. The only thing that got her through her life anymore. This specific clone had been close to her. As captain, he’d worked hand in hand with her daily, never veering from her side. It was his unwavering loyalty which cost him his life in the end. He took a blaster hit meant for her. She also knew he had a family away from the war, a wife and one young son hidden away on Naboo thanks to the generosity of Senator Amidala. She filled in his number, name, and added a brief message telling his family to contact her should they ever need anything. She did owe him her life after all. The least she could do was look after his family.

When she’d joined the Jedi Order at the tender age of five, she never could have imagined a conflict like the Clone Wars, but here she was, a general by the age of twenty-seven, aged a lifetime in under thirty years. She wanted some semblance of normal back. Something which she could cling to and know that things would be okay. Instead she was quickly reaching a point where she’d soon be passing out, either from the alcohol or pure exhaustion she was unsure. She wanted some sort of control over her life again.

Her eyes grew dark, changing from the normally bright blue to a stormy grey. Maybe she shouldn’t really consider the bright blue the norm anymore since it rarely showed. She spent so much time dreading the day, task, or mission ahead that her eyes rarely retained their true hues. When she wasn’t obsessing over the next plot to unfurl, she was here, in her office or her room, drinking to forget whatever that day’s events held. 

“What are you still doing up?” A voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. She tried to stand up to greet the friendly face before her. Her legs just wouldn’t cooperate. It was about that time she remembered why she was back in the temple to begin with. She’d lost the use of one of her legs temporarily from injuries sustained during the battle. Broken bones will do that to you. Thankfully the bacta was working, but the medics had numbed her leg in the meantime to ensure she didn’t risk further injury to it.

“Obi-Wan.” She greeted from her seat instead, waving an arm to beckon him into the small, dark room. The curtains were drawn with the intent of blacking out the light from the never sleeping city of Coruscant. She didn’t need to be reminded that their corruption was what she fought for, what she lost her men for. 

Obi-Wan shut the door behind him once he noticed the half-empty bottle of gin sitting dangerously near the edge of her desk with no glass in sight. She’s getting bad again, he thought to himself, eyeing the woman trying to put on a facade of simple okay-ness for him. Perspiration dripped down the sides of the bottle, leaving him to believe- rightfully so- that she had opened the bottle recently. She hasn’t drank directly from the bottle since her master’s death, he quickly noted, storing the information away for a conversation when she was in a better mental state to talk. It was a talk best left to sober minds. 

“What happened?” He asked plainly. She just shrugged as if to imply she didn’t know. In fact she barely knew what had went wrong. It was a simple objective, one they’d completed several times, but somehow the Separatists knew and absolutely blindsided them. Everyone was dead. She’d been left for dead by Greivous and his cronies, lightsaber stolen as a trophy and added to his collection. In her final moments before passing out, she’d managed to get a distress call out to the temple. When she came to, she was alone, in a medical room, and heavily medicated.

“That’s the truth. I really don’t know. But they’re all gone. All of them.” She hesitated for just a moment. “Obi-Wan, I should have died with them. But-But the captain, he took the shot that should have killed me. Grevious just pinned me down.” She hesitated again. Of everything she’d been through in battle, this had been by far the worst. Watching her comrades fall left and right. Watching as her captain took a hit that she should have. All she was able to do was watch and it was horrible. “He snapped my leg, crushed my ankle, bashed in my ribs, stole my saber and left laughing.” 

Everything in Obi-Wan screamed to comfort her, to do something to ease her pain, but what could he do? They’d been friends for almost their entire lives, younglings together and grown together. She’d always been prone to bouts of melancholy, but this was a darkness he’d never seen in her before and it scared him. She was crying, softly, and under her breath. She didn’t want him to see her tears, but he did all the same. Obi-Wan did something he hadn’t since their years as padawans, he pulled a chair up beside her and held her.

The tears stalled for a second before pouring out in earnest. Sobs wracked her frame, irritating the healing ribs. She didn’t care in the slightest- if anything the pain was a reminder that she’d been the one to live through the attack. She crumpled under his touch, her head tucked to his chest while tears stained the pale fabric beneath his outer robes. Obi-Wan could smell the gin on her breath, a unique mixture of juniper berries and alcohol and a certain desperation lying beneath it all. 

“Breathe, Mira, please.” He spoke softly, his intent to calm. Instead she seemed to cry harder, now gripping onto his shoulders as if her life depended on it. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure, but in her current state, her life very well may have depended on that grip. He held her tighter for a few moments, a hand winding through the short, dark locks atop her head. Her curls wrapped around his fingers and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the impropriety of the situation, how many of the masters would be distraught if they caught Mira and him simply holding one another. 

“Thank you, Obi.” She sighed, weary dredging her tone. Mira needed rest, but she likely wouldn’t be resting any time soon. She reached for the bottle of gin again. Obi-Wan quickly pulled it out of her reach, took a drink himself, then placed the lid back on before tossing the bottle in the rubbish bin across the room. “I suppose that’s for the best.” Mira muttered. 

“How long has this been going on?” He questioned quietly. Her head was still held to his check and Mira could have swore she heard it skip a beat when she replied.

“A month or so. Since Kenth died, at least, but truthfully the depression was setting in before then. Losing my Padawan was like losing a piece of my soul, Obi-Wan. I hope you never have to endure such misery.” 

“I hadn’t heard news of Kenth, Mira. What happened?” Obi-Wan tilted her head up so he could see her eyes and gauge her expressions. She seemed far more coherent than the half-empty bottle of gin would suggest. Obi-Wan wondered for just a moment if she had simply gained a higher tolerance for alcohol due to frequent consumption or if she hadn’t drank as much as he’d initially assumed.

“We were leading the attack outside of Alderan. His fighter was shot down. I was on the command ship and just had to watch him fall from the sky. Do you want to know what his final words were to me?” Mira’s voice wavered, waiting only a second for Obi-Wan to nod his assent. “‘You’ve loved me as a mother would, Master. And I’ve loved you as a son. Thank you for everything.’” Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again. Kenth was a promising Padawan, only seventeen years old upon his death. His skill with a saber left much to be desired of, so he honed his craft using blasters and practicing hand-to-hand. Mira had expected as much from the young Mandalorian, she simply hadn’t expected his death so soon after only five years together. 

Kenth’s death was old news now, a month gone, but still an open wound. Mira knew well that as a Jedi she would never be granted the opportunity to have a real family, and rejoiced when the young Mandalorian had been granted to her as Padawan. She’d tended to him as a mother might, taught him as a teacher, challenged him as a Jedi, and tried to impart as much wisdom and love to him as possible so that he may one day do the same for his young Padawan. Mira spoke of love and acceptance of all creatures in the galaxy. Kenth had been quickly following in her footsteps. He would have been granted the rank of Knight within a year or two at his pace, and likely master by his early twenties. When his fighter fell from the sky, Mira’s heart fell with him, it shattered on the planet’s crust with him left unidentifiable as hers.

“Mira, had I known, I’d have flown back immediately to be with you. Anakin would have left his command and been here. The council didn’t notify either of us.” Obi-Wan’s eyes began to darken now, his regular, nature-tinged greens turning a bit more on the mossy side. Mira recognized this as frustration in him. Whether in the council or himself she wasn’t sure. 

“You were both on important missions.” Mira stated matter-of-factly. “Plus, the last thing Anakin needs is to see someone lose their Padawan after everything with Ahsoka. He’s an emotional boy- well man now, I suppose- at the best of times, he doesn’t need more of a reason to be upset with the council.”

“That doesn’t matter, Mira. You shouldn’t have gone through that alone. Did the council at least provide some support? Some sort of counselor as they did for me when Qui-Gon died?” Obi-Wan shed a single tear which dripped to Mira’s cheek. His thumb brushed the tear, along with her own, away. 

Mira didn’t respond, but simply nodded a negative. They’d not even given Kenth a proper funeral, citing needing too many Jedi away from the temple for the war. His pyre had been built on Alderan by Mira, set aflame by Mira, and attended by Mira alone. She’d managed to retrieve his saber, a blade of deep yellow alike her own, from the wreckage. She knew it should have been cremated with Kenth, but she wanted some small piece of him to hold onto. 

“Oh Mira!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, gripping her jaw in his palm. “You never should have gone through that alone.” He eyed the saber perched on the corner of her desk. Kenth’s. It was bulky, heavy, nothing like the one Mira wielded, yet contained crystals baring their souls so similarly. He couldn’t imagine the heartache of losing Anakin or Ahsoka either one, and he tried to maintain a fine line between mentor and father-figure with them. Mira had thrown her entire being into Kenth. 

“This war has taken so much from all of us, and for what?” Mira’s face grew warm, her cheeks slowly heating to a pink hue. “You lost your Master, I’ve lost my Padawan, millions of lives have been lost battling an endless war with no purpose. The Jedi shouldn’t even be involved in this conflict! We are meant to be peacekeepers, not generals, Obi-Wan. Kenth should have lived for studies, refinement, and spiritual enlightenment, not to live his short life as a pawn for the Republic.” 

The pair stilled, Mira held in a lover’s embrace to Obi-Wan’s chest, his palm cupping her jaw, eyes tilted up to meet his own. She searched his eyes for response. A flicker of anger for her treasonous statements, disbelief at her outburst, pity for falling prey to her emotions, but she found none of those. Instead she saw kindness radiating from the frustration. He knew her pain, her anger. He’d lost loved ones too. Obi-Wan had seen the struggles of people across the galaxy who the war had taken their parents, spouses, children, friends, family, and others from them, leaving them high and dry without a credit to their name. Where the presence of a Jedi once prompted peace, it now prompted suspicion and even fear. Though he didn’t voice it, Obi-Wan agreed with Mira thoroughly. 

He opted instead to send his confirmation to her in waves. The first was by declining his neck ever so slightly so that his lips were close enough they could meet hers if either of them so chose so. Second was him gripping her hand in his empty one and tracing meaningless patterns along her knuckles. Third was removing his other hand from her chin and raking it through the short locks. It had been a long time-years- since they had held one another in this fashion, since the death of Obi-Wan’s own master when he sought out solace in his closest friend. They stilled, Obi-Wan holding Mira tenderly for what felt like hours. They gazed into each other’s eyes, watching for any sign of hesitation. 

Mira closed the gap, leaning up into his lips. The last time they’d kissed, Obi-Wan didn’t have any facial hair. Mira found herself gripping his jaws tenderly, relishing the feel of bristles scratching beneath her fingertips. Her nerves on fire, Mira raked a hand through his hair and broke the kiss to inhale deeply. 

“How much have you had to drink?” Obi-Wan hesitated to start another kiss. “I won’t take this any further until I know.” His eyes glowed with a seriousness she hadn’t quite expected. 

“While I intended on finishing the bottle tonight, most of it was drunk yesterday. Only a couple shots tonight; just enough to take the edge off so far.” Mira pulled on the hood of his robes, revealing the pale skin of his neck before lightly sucking on a tender spot near his collarbone. Obi-Wan let out a soft moan. “As much as I would like to continue my dear Obi-Wan, the bacta and numbing agents will wear off soon.”

“Then stay with me tonight, sleep by my side; much as you comforted me when Qui-Gon died, I’ll comfort you now.” Mira didn’t need more convincing than another kiss, this one chaste and sweetened with serenity, before agreeing to join Obi-Wan for the night.

\---

Mira fell asleep quickly, her head tucked to Obi-Wan’s chest to listen to his heart thumping steadily once again. Her injured leg was propped up over his own. Together they formed a tangle of limbs where a passerby likely couldn’t tell a difference in where one began and the other ended. Obi-Wan stroked her curls while she slept, mumbling sweet nothings he knew she couldn’t hear but hoped influenced her dreams nonetheless. 

Mira was beginning to feel the unpleasant twinges of pain as the numbing medications wore off. Obi-Wan noted how she moaned out in her sleep, twitching and wiggling occasionally. Each time he simply wound a loose curl around his fingers or brushed his other hand softly down her back all while reaching out for her force signature with his to issue an aura of peace to promote her healing. The bacta would work quickly enough. Mira should be healed within the next day or two, but her spiritual self needed healing as much as her physical body.

They clung to one another tight enough that Obi-Wan believed Mira may see an imprint from his freckles on her skin come morning. Rationally, he knew that wasn’t possible, but the way her face was pressed to his bare chest had him convinced otherwise. When they were this close, he always suddenly understood the allure of leaving the Order to pursue a simpler life. He could have this every night with her; their skin pressed together, a thin blanket concealing their midsections down, and a gentle breeze coming in from the open window adjacent to his bed, maybe even the sound of their child snoring lightly in a crib beside them. Absolute bliss could be theirs so easily. 

Obi-Wan needed to keep his emotions in check. This line of thinking was never an easy slope to traverse, and the pair had been down this path before. They’d been so young then, so naive to how the dark side could creep in and take residence in the soul via emotion. Neither had been granted the rank of master yet, and Obi-Wan knew it had been for good reason. Master Yoda had seen straight through their facade, he set them on the proper course, but he’d been too late to prevent attachments from forming. The proof was currently lying in Obi-Wan’s arms, a snore erupting from her lips. It had been months since they last spoke, years since they’d last embraced, and here they were, tangled together like two Padawan’s once again. 

Love and emotions was such a rollercoaster.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things. He was a Master Jedi, a member of the council, a General in the Grand Army of the Republic. Surely he had better self control than this. Obi-Wan was a devout Jedi, swearing off anything that could lead to attachments which clouded his judgement. He didn’t imbibe in alcohol for the most part, nor companionship outside of the Order. He’d lived a life of celibacy since their last tryst nearly a decade prior. Attachments changed priorities, and that was simply something which could not happen during times of war. Yet, would he not have charged across the galaxy at the drop of a hat to have been with Mira during Kenth’s funeral? Or to have been there when she was falling to pieces afterwards, thrown back into battle far too quickly for her spirit to have healed? Mira had always been an attachment for Obi-Wan, he was simply loathe to admit so.

But now, he couldn’t risk falling back down this slope. Mira needed help. She needed him, in truth, but Obi-Wan was needed on the war front. He’d inadvertently become the poster boy of the Jedi for the war effort. The Jedi Order needed him, the Republic needed him. The dream of Mira and him retiring to a home on one of the peaceful planets, maybe Naboo as Anakin seemed to enjoy the planet well enough, or Yavin IV where Mira was from, twinkled in the back of his mind constantly. She was ever-present, taking up real estate in his mind’s eye. Holding her as he was now made countering that dream impossible to negotiate away. 

Obi-Wan had always known if faced with choosing Mira or the Jedi, he would choose Mira. He just couldn’t right now. He had to say no to her, to the slope loving her would inevitably lead down. He could only hope that she would understand. 

\---

They stayed entwined until late the next morning when they were awoken by a rushed knocking on the door. Mira, not thinking about being in Obi-Wan’s room instead of her own, stood, picked up her discarded robe from the floor and smoothed her hair before answering. 

“Uh, Mira?” Anakin questioned with a start, trying not to look too closely at her obviously sleep-rattled form. Mira yawned.

“Anakin, to what do I owe this pleasure?” She tried to sound awake, alert, but Mira’s brain was still in a fog. 

“Where’s Obi-Wan? He’s late to the council meeting.” Anakin looked past Mira to see the sleeping form of his master passed out in bed still. Unfortunately for him, Obi-Wan was still naked, much as Mira had been before hastily securing her robe. “Wait, didn’t he take a celibacy vow? What happened here?”

Mira looked back in the room, stunned for a moment that she wasn’t in her own. The shelves were too orderly, no clothes littered the floor or chairs. The room held a certain musk she couldn’t quite put her finger on as anything other than… Obi Wan. With a start, Mira’s eyes grew wide. 

“This looks bad, but I promise you it’s not what you think.” She began an attempt to explain the situation to Anakin, but stalled. How could she do it without bringing up Kenth? “I was drinking last night,” the attempt began. Mira had to keep in mind that Anakin was a highly trained Jedi. He’d be able to spot a lie from a parsec away. “My entire squad was killed in action earlier this week. Obi-Wan wanted to ensure I didn’t partake in anything regrettable, so I came to his room. He often sleeps nude. I simply didn’t want him to feel ill at ease in his own room because I was clothed and he was not.” Technically nothing she stated was a lie. 

A sly smile crept across Anakin’s face. 

“Uh huh. If you keep telling yourself that’s all that happened, maybe others will buy it.” Anakin winked. Mira was taken aback. While Jedi having relations wasn’t unheard of, it certainly wasn’t openly discussed. Many did as Obi-Wan and vowed off intercourse for fear of attachments. Anakin, however, was so cavalier, as if it were a topic discussed freely. “Can you do me a favor and wake him up? The council sent me after both of you, so two birds one stone.”

Mira couldn’t abate the burn rising across her cheeks. Had she not been injured the night before they certainly would have had relations with the amount of tension built rapidly in her office. And she had never taken a celibacy vow as Obi-Wan, but Mira generally handled those matters herself. It had been years since she’d taken a partner. For Anakin to insinuate that her and Obi-Wan had had sex when they hadn’t scandalized her. For him to not believe the truth of the matter either made the situation worse. 

“S-sure? I guess.” Mira slammed the door. It couldn’t muffle Anakin’s laughter rolling throughout the halls as he made his way back to the council chamber. She walked back to the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the view she’d been granted of Obi-Wan. From the soft, auburn hair at the top of his head to the calluses on his feet, the man was perfect. Not overly muscular, but trim, as most Jedi were. His hair was tousled from sleep causing it to fall over his eyes which Mira didn’t notice opening as she admired further down his frame. 

“Do you like something you see?” His voice was rough with sleep. Obi-Wan took note of the blush across Mira’s cheeks. She untied her robe and shed it to the bed, searching the floor over for her clothing. 

“Yes, but we’re late for the council meeting. Anakin woke me up. If I had a saber, I may have ended him out of embarrassment.” This brought a rise from Obi-Wan. He stretched across the blankets, popping his shoulders and back before sitting up and reaching for a clean set of robes in his bedside dresser. 

“Anakin has his own secrets. You have no reason for shame with him.” Obi-Wan quickly dressed while she was still searching for her boots. “You kicked them under the bed, I believe.” he added when he noticed her searching. Mira laced up her boots, then pulled her robe back on over her clothing. 

“Does Anakin have time for secrets?” Mira questioned with a laugh. The young Master was always on Jedi or Republic business. He’d never taken a break in as long as Mira had known him. 

“A handful, yes.” Obi-Wan admitted. He opened the door then led the way to the council chamber. Mira didn’t question these secrets further, but if Anakin’s recent business with Rush Clovis was any indication of them, at least one of these secrets involved one senator from Naboo. Rumors had flown around the temple after their altercation ended in Clovis’ brief hospitalization and Anakin came out with only minor bruises. 

The pair walked in comfortable silence to the council chambers. Obi-Wan’s hand found Mira’s easily and held her tight. He had a feeling this meeting would be separating them again. After having her back in his arms again, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted was to lose her, whether permanently or temporarily. Given her mental status the night before, he feared to lose her permanently. Last night had reignited emotions buried so deep within him that Obi-Wan was finding it difficult to come to terms with them. 

Obi-Wan stalled the elevator they were standing in. “What ar-” Mira’s question was cut short by Obi-Wan’s plush lips crashing into her own. He wanted to say no to her, to the overwhelming feeling to take her as his, but couldn’t. Mira meant too much to him. Obi-Wan could ignore the feelings no longer. 

Obi-Wan backed her into the wall, cornering her between himself and the elevator. Her hands resumed their place from the night before, one gripping his jaw and the other weaving its way through his luscious locks. Obi-Wan had one arm wrapped around her lower back, his other hand gently cradled the nape of her neck. Mira began kissing lightly down his jaw, intensifying each one by nipping or sucking on his skin as she worked her way to his collarbone again. A moan slipped past his lips, prompting Mira to suck that same spot harder this time, bringing a tinge of blue to the surface of his skin. Obi-Wan held onto her for dear life. He hadn’t been touched like this for so long, and she was the one doing it, she was the one inviting his touch right back. 

He untied Mira’s robe to gain easier access to her skin much as she had his. Obi-Wan made quick work of her shirt, exposing a single breast. He immediately leaned down to latch on to her nipple, causing a deep moan to echo. 

“Th-the meeting, Obi.” She twiddled with his hair. She tried to wiggle free. She wanted to stay right there with him, but the council was waiting. 

“They’ve waited this long, love. What’s a few more minutes?” He returned to her breast, releasing a hand to work his way to her core. 

“Your vow?” She added hesitantly. Mira certainly wasn’t opposed to a rendezvous with Obi-Wan. Was it not his name that fell from her lips on late, sleepless nights? But he’d taken vows. He’d sworn off even the risk of an attachment. As a Jedi herself, the last thing Mira wanted to do was compromise his beliefs. 

“That vow was made to keep me from forming attachments. I don’t consider you to fall under that risk.” Obi-Wan stilled while Mira pulled away from him. She was under the assumption that they shared some sort of bond. “When the vow was made, I was already attached to you, Mira. So, technically, I wouldn’t be breaking it.” Mira returned to him. Obi-Wan began his ministrations again. Lost in the moment, neither initially felt the elevator resume motion again. 

“Kriff.” Mira cursed under her breath. The pair straightened themselves up. Mira tousled Obi-Wan’s hair until it had his signature flawless appearance instead of being so obviously mussed from sex. Or, in their case, what would have quickly become sex had the elevator not began working agin.

“Shall we continue later, my love?” Obi-Wan didn’t exactly need to hear the answer to that question. Mira gave him a quick kiss. Later, they’d continue later. 

“It’s about time you two showed up.” Anakin chided them when they stepped into the council chambers, a grin on his face. His eyes immediately shot to Obi-Wan’s neck where a faint bruise had formed suspiciously in the shape of an O. While Mira had told him the truth earlier, convincing him that it was the truth at the time was going to be far more difficult. 

“Yes, well, the elevator stopped halfway between my quarters and here.” Obi-Wan provided the answer sheepishly, not daring to look Anakin in the eyes. He quickly turned to face the council members.

“Curious that late you were both Master Kenobi.” Master Yoda piped up, grinning in a similar fashion to Anakin. Mira began to respond but was cut short by Mace Windu. 

“There will be time for discussion of Obi-Wan’s private matters later. We have more important matters to discuss now.” Mace addressed the room. “We have intel that General Grievous is on Utapau.”

\---

“Anakin, no! Don’t do it!” Mira shouted across the room. The younglings had cowered behind her in fear, as well they should. A master was threatening them. Mira was quite certain nobody was leaving this room alive. She couldn’t let him kill the younglings. They were children. They hadn’t experienced anything outside of the temple yet. One already laid dead in pieces near the door. 

When the clones began attacking, Mira had been thankful she no longer had a troop under her command. It gave her the opportunity to retrieve Kenth’s saber from her desk, then gather the younglings and get them hidden in her quarters. His saber was far too bulky for her to handle well, but it was better than nothing against the best swordsman in the order. 

The younglings hid throughout her quarters. A couple in the bathroom, one in the closet, several were scattered around the room hidden under various pieces of furniture. She could hear their cries, feel their terror. Anakin couldn’t do this. Not the goofy, loving man she’d watch grow up. Not Obi-Wan’s Anakin. The dark side had taken a hold in him, that much was obvious. But Anakin still had to be in there somewhere. 

“Listen to me, Anakin. These younglings have done nothing to deserve your hate. Let them go. Take me instead and let them live.” Her life was the only bargaining chip she had. She tried to speak again, but had the breath knocked out of her. Mira’s head cracked against the steel ceiling. Anakin dropped her to the floor. The last thing she saw was a flash of blue slicing through a child’s abdomen before black overtook her vision.

\---

Machines beeping cut through the fog. She struggled first to open her eyes, willing them to move a millimeter at a time. Where was she? What happened? The younglings, did they make it? Mira glanced around the room. She felt an unpleasant pressure in her left arm, near the crook. Her blue eyes, dulled slate from sleep and medication, focused on an IV pumping some sort of liquid into her veins. Probably something to negate the pain radiating from somewhere inside her skull. She couldn’t quite place her finger on where the pain originated from. It was everywhere, throbbing through her temples but stabbing on her nape. Her muscles ached. Her throat neck had been braced, preventing her from moving her head much in any given direction. What had happened?

“Mrs. Kenobi, it’s good to see you are awake. I’ll go get your husband.” A medical droid buzzed happily. Mira was confused. Her husband? Mrs. Kenobi? Either she had missed something major or Obi-Wan was up to something. Mira tried to lean up some, but discovered restraints had been placed on her arms. What in the Force had happened?

“Mira!” Obi-Wan half shouted while a droid shushed him from the hall. He jumped to her side, untying the restraints immediately. “You’re awake. Are you in pain? I’ll get a nurse for more medicine.”

For as bad as Mira felt, Obi-Wan looked worse. His hair had been singed in patches, leaving uneven waves to the auburn locks. Small burns were peppered across his face. To someone who didn’t know him well, they may mistake them for freckles, but Mira knew better. These were far too red and angry to be his freckles. Bags hung heavy beneath his eyes. He didn’t don his regular robes, but had opted instead for casual clothing. Mira could almost mistake them for pajamas if she didn’t have an identical set of her own to know that they were standard-issue Jedi lounge clothing. His hands, normally callused but soft, were bandaged in places. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him in the time she’d been out.

“I’ll manage.” She spoke barely above a whisper, testing her voice. With the neck brace Mira could only imagine that Anakin had used the Force to choke her, or throw her into the ceiling. Maybe both. It wasn’t uncommon to suffer vocal cord damage as a result of these sorts of injuries. Mira’s suspicion turned out to be right. Her voice, though soft, was scratchy at best. “What happened?” She choked out. Mira tried to lean up again. Every muscle in her body ached as she moved. 

“Anakin. He turned to the dark.” Obi-Wan sat beside Mira. Her hands found his. Obi-Wan reached out for her force signature, hoping to take on at least a small portion of the pain she was in. Mira blocked his signature and instead reached to him. His eyes were normally thoughtful, humored, bright with life. Right now they were glassy, a sign of whatever was haunting him. Mira knew he would tell her in time, but for now, he needed comfort. She tried to reflect every bit of love and camaraderie he had shown her. He had to know she was there for him to depend on, though she was unsure what that may entail. “Mira, he killed the younglings you tried to protect. He slaughtered every Jedi in the temple. A handful lived long enough to succumb to their injuries, but you’re the only survivor. “ Obi-Wan started crying, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks. Mira suspected this was the first time he’d allowed himself to really feel what had happened. 

“Is he… Did you have to kill him?” She chose her words carefully. Mira didn’t want to press the issue, but with the condition she was in, and the atrocities Anakin had committed, she had to know. Was there a chance of him coming back to finish what he started?

“I’m unsure. He was left in the middle of a lava pit on Mustafar, so his chances are not good. He was missing limbs, crawling through the ash. My emotions are too far out of check to feel for his presence to know for sure, though.” Mira pulled Obi-Wan to her chest and radiated love, peace, and calm to him. Obi-Wan rested his head against her breast and breathed deeply. “Then I found you beaten to death, barely breathing beneath a pile of younglings.” More tears. He shook, trying to shake off the sobs threatening to wrack his frame. Obi-Wan was always the level-headed one. Seeing him this torn to pieces was devastating. Mira tenderly traced various patterns on his shoulders. 

“If you need to break down, my dear, I will pick up the pieces.” She whispered loud enough for Obi-Wan alone to hear. “He may have brought me near death, but I am still alive. Cry, yell, scream, do whatever you need to do, Obi.” 

The last dregs of his will broke. Obi-Wan shook with each breath he took. His eyes poured tears, staining the soft, cotton material of her hospital gown. His heart was broken, shattered. His own Padawan had turned against him and everyone else. Anakin had obliterated any semblance of life as Obi-Wan had known it in one day. The order was gone, his mentors, the men and women who raised him were rotting in the roped-off temple as he cried. Their souls unable to reach peace with the living force without a proper funeral. Obi-Wan felt such tragedy deep in his soul. 

He also felt relief. Mira had survived the onslaught. The one person who had been by his side since childhood, who trained as Padawan and became a Knight in time with him. She was who had been his relief in past tragedies, his happiness when time allowed. Mira had been with him for everything he went through both positive and negative. She was buried under the bodies of younglings, a mound intentionally made by Anakin for someone to dig through. She was barely breathing, her neck bruised purple. Blood had caked her hair to her scalp. Mira was all Obi-Wan had left. He couldn’t let her die. 

“As soon as you are well enough to travel, we have to go to Tattooine.” Obi-Wan’s cries finally broke. Mira looked at him curiously. Obviously they would need to go into hiding, but Tattooine seemed a bit off the mark. Anakin was from Tattooine. Would he not likely return there? Obi-Wan studied Mira’s confusion. “He attacked Padme, and she delivered their children early. Bail Organa is adopting the girl, Leia, but Luke remains unclaimed. If Anakin survived, he’ll be searching for them. The safest place for Luke is with his Uncle on Tatooine. Anakin’s step-brother recently married. They’ve agreed to claim the child as theirs, raise him as theirs, and protect him.”

So, Mira’s suspicions about Anakin and Padme had been correct. Evidently they were more involved than she realized, but that was redundant now. Now there was a child in need of a home, and neither parent was able to provide. 

“What if we go to Tattooine, and raise Luke, together? If Anakin comes after him surely we would be able to protect him more effectively than farmers.” Obi-Wan toyed with Mira’s suggestion for a moment. She was right that they could protect him better, but they would also stick out more to Anakin, should he come searching. “Kenobi is a common enough name throughout the galaxy, and Anakin thinks I’m dead. We could change our names, leave, and raise the boy as our own. He would be searching for you alone, but not if he doesn’t have the right name or location.” 

“We would have to live our lives in hiding. We’d have to leave behind everything we know, the only life we’ve ever known.” He leaned away from her chest, sitting up and gazing into her eyes. 

“We will have to do that anyway, Obi.” Her fingers swept the messy hair from his forehead. 

“I’ll contact the Lars’.” Obi-Wan stood, ready to leave the room and make contact with the farmers. “Oh, Mira, if you want it back, I retrieved your saber from Grievous.” Mira was stunned at this news. Even with everything happening, Obi-Wan still completed the mission. She didn’t reply, but gave him a smile in thanks. 

“Before you leave-” Mira interrupted, “Why did that droid call me Mrs. Kenobi?” He stifled a laugh. 

“They wouldn’t allow me any access to you or your information unless we were family.” He paused for a beat, “Though, I do suppose, given the plan to raise Luke, you really would be Mrs. Kenobi.” It was Mira’s turn to laugh.

Mira rolled her eyes. “Go contact the Lars’. I’ll be right here.” WIth that Obi-Wan stepped into the hall to make the call.

\--- Nineteen Years Later ---

Mira walked around the house wondering where Obi-Wan had wandered off to. He and Luke should have been back several hours prior, and the girls were getting hungry. Mira didn’t want dinner to go cold waiting on the boys, but both teenage girls had a will all of their own, one inheriting hers from her father and the other nearly as silver-tongued. As Mira walked outside to make one last call for them she spied the familiar speeder racing across the sand. Luke had his arms crossed, wearing an expression which very much reminded her of his father. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was smiling. She started to turn back into the house when a glint of sunlight in the backseat caught her attention. Mira decided to wait for them to make it to the house.

“Oh, General Mira! How good it is to see you!” That voice. Mira knew that voice. She hadn’t heard it in almost twenty years. Mira had assumed Anakin’s droids had left with him. What had her husband gotten into?

“General Mira?” Luke questioned as he easily hopped down from the speeder. Obi-Wan hopped from his side, although not as easily. For a man of fifty, he still got along well, but the years had not been particularly kind to him. “This thing’s gotta be crosswired.” Luke directed his attention to C-3PO. “She’s no general, and her name isn’t Mira.” Mira choked back a laugh. Her and Obi-Wan had been careful over the years to hide their pasts to Luke and the girls. They didn’t need to know how grisly it had been. 

“This R2 unit has a message for us, love.” Obi-Wan ushered the group inside the house, checking over his shoulder. Mira didn’t miss his paranoia. She double checked the distance for any flashes of light, dust clouds, shadows, etc. Mira ushered the kids into their rooms with strict orders not to exit until called for. Whatever was about to be relayed from R2-D2 couldn’t bode well. Obi-Wan led the droid to their cellar. With a layer of sand between them and the kids, they should have sufficient sound proofing. Once the cellar door was closed, Mira sat down next to her husband, holding his arm tight.

“R2, play the message.” Obi-Wan broke an uncomfortable silence which had settled over the cellar. R2-D2 projected the visage of a young woman, beautiful, with her hair braided into buns and pinned near her ears. The woman wore a white gown, and her intelligent eyes cut through the projection. Mira knew immediately that this was Luke’s twin. It was something in the eyes that gave it away, but she knew nonetheless.

“General Kenobi. Years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack, and I'm afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour.” Leia turned away from the droid. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.” The holo cut out. 

“Mira,” Obi-Wan began, but was cut off by her.

“We have to help her, dear. You know as well as I that Bail wouldn’t have told her to find you unless it was dire. We don’t have an option.” Obi-Wan considered her words. Mira spoke the truth. 

“How will we explain this to Luke, Bey, and Kyla? Tattooine is all they’ve ever known. They have no clue about our pasts.” The situation would be difficult, but ultimately Mira knew what they had to do. Regardless of the stature of the Order, they had always been Jedi. And Jedi are peacekeepers, they help those in need. One look at the girl in the holo told Mira all she needed, Leia was in need.

“We tell them everything. From the Jedi, to Anakin’s fall, to our isolation here. It may be for the best. All three of them have shown some degree of force sensitivity. Due to the war, we could train them, teach them how to use the force to defend themselves. Should Bail allow it, Leia too. Obi, we don’t have an option.” 

Obi-Wan hated to admit it, but Mira was right. The one good thing that would come of the situation would be Luke finally getting his wish to join the war. Obi-Wan simply hoped Luke’s experiences were less traumatic than theirs had been.


End file.
